Tag Archive | The Damned
LaLupa
Originally posted on Pen of the Damned:
It’s that time of month again and rent is due. Evening is falling fast, drowning the city in dark hues of purple. I’m starting to get a little edgy, a little nervous, as I walk to work. Every night is my first night, every night is my last…
Inner Workings
Originally posted on Pen of the Damned:
This was the fourth one this week and James could easily do four more. Truth was, there could never be too many. He pushed the door open and a wicked grin crossed his lips while the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes etched deeper into place. James…
Damned Words 9
Originally posted on Pen of the Damned:
Time Jon Olson How long has it been? No way to keep track. Not in here; not in this crypt. I’m sure the humans know. Once, they were prey; I was the hunter, too powerful for defeat. How long since they dug this pit and threw me in?…
Inside
Originally posted on Pen of the Damned:
Day 1 I can hear them scratching – almost ticking, always clicking, as they move around inside my head. It’s maddening. Their tiny feet always touching, testing, feeling their way about. Each hair-coated limb sliding between the soft tissue and bone – scuttling through the crevasse in between.…
Hunting Season
Originally posted on Pen of the Damned:
Janet Boxley nudged the SUV deeper into the desolate backwoods, peering through the passenger’s side window, searching for her pups’ eyes. Once she’d made it back to camp, she slammed the truck into park and grabbed her flashlight from the glove box before stepping out; her breath pluming…
Damned Words 8
Originally posted on Pen of the Damned:
Nothing Lives Jon Olson Reflections in windows tease and haunt, showing what was, and what is no longer. Do not look at the glass! Damn, too late. Reflected before me is a tree. Its trunk, branches, and leaves, all on display. I want it to be real. I…
New Love
Originally posted on Pen of the Damned:
“That was a crazy night, huh?” Arthur spoke the words over his shoulder as he groped around the table for his glasses. They were hard to miss with their stereotypical thick black frames and even thicker lenses. Cold against his skin, he shivered while fitting them into place.…
Viv Drewa - The Owl Lady 